All I Need Is You
by DarkDreamsDeferred
Summary: Set in and just after Episode 49, when Trowa find's Quatre injured on Libra. A little sappy story for you to hopefully enjoy.  Complete
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own GW, therefore I do not make any money off of this. **

**Warnings: This story contains yaoi. If that's not your cup-of-tea, then I suggest you move on. Rated T, just to be safe.  
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**Pairings: 3x4, 1x2  
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**As always, please enjoy and let me know what you think!** :)

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><p>"I'm coming, Quatre."<p>

His blood sang, though his body was exhausted. Too long he'd defied death, too long he'd put off the inevitable. Yet, something kept him going. Something pulled him deeper into Libra as the battle raged. An explosion lit the corridor, Deathscythe, true to it's master's name, appearing from the depths of death and destruction.

_Duo._ Trowa bit back a smile. In truth, he'd developed a soft spot for the braided American pilot, with his flamboyant personality, and never ceasing smile. Here, though he had assumed his Shinigami persona, the God of Death, he was a comfort to Trowa.

Their words were exchanged quickly, for each pilot had a mission to fulfill. They parted, each wishing the other well, ignoring the nameless voices deep within their minds who whispered coldly that they may never meet again. Trowa's pulse thrummed like a humming bird in his ears. Quatre was hurt. How badly, this naturally cold soldier had no way of knowing. The empathetic link which had grown between them from the first moment they'd laid eyes on each other offered no comfort or knowledge save for the fact that his secret love lived. For now.

_When this is over, Quatre... The moment this is over, I promise you I'll tell you everything. _

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><p><em>Trowa. <em>

Quatre swam between two worlds. Both dark, both cold, though one blissfully secure inside his own mind and body. The other, a control room for mobile dolls, powered by the Zero system...the same system which had fueled his insanity.

_I suppose I deserve this, _he thought to himself, wishing himself back to the refuge that came with blacking out_, I suppose I deserve to die here, by the hand of a woman convinced she has no kindness left, and surrounded by my own worst nightmare...a system I built myself. Payment for the lives I've taken, and for the lie I've lived. Oh, Trowa. How I wish I could have told you how I feel._

"I've continually fought. And with each battle I've been killing my own heart." A familiar voice broke through the barrier separating him from true consciousness. "And my heart has been completely void of feeling for quite a long time now. Maybe my life doesn't have value now." Trowa was explaining to Dorothy.

_Please, Trowa. _Quatre pleaded silently, unable to form the words._ Don't say such things. You have value. I value you. I need you. _

"But I have to keep on living." Trowa finished.

"Why is that?" Dorothy inquired softly, never daring to look at the emerald eyed pilot.

"Because I've got a home to go back to." Trowa replied softly. _One with Quatre, if he'll have me. _

Quatre's heart sang, as pain coursed through him. _Trowa! Yes, Trowa! Yes, you've a home to go back to. We have a home to go back to. Damn it, damn this torn body. I'm not ready to go yet. I've Trowa to go to!_

Quatre's will to return to the world of the living doubled. Images began to sharpen, as his breath became audible, harsh in his own ears. Panting through the pain, he tried not to jerk with slight surprise as a hand was laid on his shoulder. Gazing through heavily lidded eyes he peered into never ending emerald orbs, seeing clearly for the first time the love that shown there.

"Can you stand, Quatre?" Trowa inquired, willing himself not to haul the smaller man against him from the sheer relief of having found him alive. Gentle, he must be gentle. There was no real way of knowing exactly how much blood his love had lost, or how bad the damage might be. No, he would show his relief later...once he was certain this man, this incredible man who had revived the heart of a cold, emotionless soldier was far from Death's grip.

A token struggle was made, as the blond pilot requested Trowa to take care of Dorothy and forget him. Trowa was not fooled however, and found himself fighting back a smile again. _Leave it to Quatre_, he thought to himself. _Duo is right. He'd take the sins of humanity upon himself if we'd allow him. _

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure she's capable of taking care of herself."he assured Quatre.

"You're probably right." Quatre allowed the taller man to pull him to his feet, and wrap a strong arm around him, supporting his weight.

Trowa steered them from the room, wishing he could leave the battle to the others...wishing that he could immediately deliver Quatre into the hands of medical professionals who could correct the damage that had been done to his beloved.

Sensing the turmoil within the taller pilot, Quatre allowed himself a small smile, though in truth it appeared more as a grimace.

"Trowa." He whispered.

They stopped for a moment, and Quatre soon found his face being tilted upward to stare back into the face he adored, greeted by a concerned look. He could feel the opposing forces within Trowa.

"We have to finish what we've started, Trowa."

"Quatre..." Trowa began, only to allow the small blond to quiet him with a small shake of his head.

"Do you remember what you said to me, all those months ago in that safe house in the desert?" Quatre inquired. Trowa frowned in confusion. "You said we have a duty. You were right, Trowa. We have a duty to the people both of the colonies and the Earth. We must finish this, Trowa."

"You're hurt, Quatre. You need medical attention." Trowa supplied, knowing he was defeated before the argument began.

Quatre attempted to smile. "I'll survive. As long as you help me, I can hold on long enough to get through this."

Trowa found himself pulling the blond into a gentle embrace, indulging himself by resting his face briefly in the smaller man's hair, breathing in the scent that was so uniquely Quatre. "I'm here as long as you need me."

"I need you, Trowa. More than you know," Quatre whispered, wishing they were in another time, another place. Anywhere, anywhere else so they could have the conversation they both knew must be had.

Trowa pulled away slightly, readjusting so that they could glide through the hallways back to their Gundams.

_Soon_. He promised himself. _Soon_.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Much of this chapter does in fact belong Sunrise. However, I did not feel that it could be skipped over with this story so I've kept as much of it as possible true canon, and added my parts to it. My thoughts/story will pick up closer to the end of this chapter and continue to the conclusion. **

**Also, please forgive me for any spelling errors which you may find. It's late, I'm tired, and I'll look over it sometime tomorrow. For now, I'm just glad to have gotten this far in the game.  
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><p>"Evacuation! You can't be serious! If those battleships hit ground the entire world will be effected." Howard frantically pulled the designs of the two battle ships onto the main screen. "If those battleships enter the Earth's atmosphere and explode on ground, the initial explosion might be limited to a radius of a few hundred kilometers, but the enormous amount of dust spreading across the sky will block solar rays, resulting in a dramatic decrease in temperatures all around the world."<p>

"That's terrible!" Relena exclaimed, shaken to her core. _Milliardo can't be planning this. He just can't be! _Her mind was racing, seaching for any alternative to the truth. Why would anyone want to destroy Earth?

"And people won't be able to live on the Earth any longer." Sally Po supplied, her voice trembling. _So this is how it ends. _

"The only way to avoid this is to change their orbit and blow them up in space." Howard concluded, hanging his head. "Both are next to impossible."

The cabin fell silent for a moment, the gravity of the conversation sinking in. All this, all the lives that had been lost, for this damned war to come to an end like _this_? The very breaths the of those in the room became heavy, a sense of dread, and loss taking over. Defeat, that cold enemy of all soldiers, now stood on their doorstep, his entrance inevitable.

"No." Une's voice shattered the brief silence like a bullet breaking glass. " We still have hope."

Heads whipped around, as confusion overtook the minds of all present. _Hope? What hope could there be?_

"There's a Gundam close to Peacemillion's main power supply." Une pronounced, scarcely able to contain her pride, smiling ruefully as officers scrambled to enhance the grid, showing a small, contained battle just beyond the edge of the destroyed ship.

"Is it Heero?" Relena inquired, rushing forward to gain a better view.

"No, I think it's 02."

"Duo." Howard's pride got the better of him. _That's my boy. "_Then they're likely with him. Well then, we still have hope."

Sally moved forward to grasp the back of an officer's chair, curiosity, hope, fear, all bundled into one trembling body as she demanded fiercely, "But where are the other Gundams?"

"There's too many mobile dolls moving about to know for sure." The officer supplied, his voice just bare millimeters above morose.

Sally's face hardened against the fear that threatened to overtake them all. _It's up to you once again, Gundams. You hold the future of the entire Earth Sphere in your hands. _

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><p>"Hey, they've stopped moving..."Duo muttered, confused and wary as the blast from the last mobile doll to fall at Deathscythe's hand receded into the cold darkness of space. His grip tightened on Deathscythe's controls, instincts screaming of foul play. <em>This has to be a trick of some kind<em>, his mind concluded. As violet eyes narrowed, scanning the visible expansion of space before him, a com link flared to life, revealing the stoic Heavyarms pilot. "Yo, Trowa!"

"I'll come and join you. I've completed my mission here."

Duo's face lit with a brilliant smile, as relief coursed through his veins. It had seemed inevitable that one of their number would fall in this battle...they had all defied the true Shinigami for far too long. Yet, he was not one to pass up the gift of a friend's life spared. "Roger that," he proclaimed, Cheshire grin flashing, his mood lifting significantly before his joy came to a crashing halt as he realized who was missing. _God, if you're listening, please don't have taken Quatre_. He pleaded quickly with his maker. "Where's Quatre?" his stomach lurched, his pulse flew, thrusting him mind and soul into the beginning stages of panic.

"I'm-I'm right here." Quatre's voice came, as Sandrock appeared beside Heavyarms. The pained tone in his voice was not lost on either of the listening pilots, nor was the effort it took for Quatre to bring his Gundam to an upright position. _Come on, Quatre. _Duo willed,calming his wildly racing heart. Hurt, but alive, his mind rejoiced. "Okay, when we're done here we'll celebrate with some expensive champagne." Duo quipped, a weak attempt to cover the turmoil raging inside from mere idea of losing his one of his best friends. _Not only that, but if we lose Quatre, any further strategies will make us sitting ducks. Even Peacecraft knew that, _The hard soldier, his self proclaimed Shinigami voice whispered within his leaping mind.

"S-sounds great." Quatre managed. "As long as it's non-alcoholic."

Com links returned to voice only, allowing Trowa to indulge in a moment of despair of his own, a moment to hang his head and succumb to the maze of emotions that gripped with an iron fist at his usually unfeeling heart. His fear grew at a rapid pace, pulse far faster than he'd ever felt as his mind swirled through a haze of unknown emotion, threatening to consume all that he was. _Damn this war. _His mind raged, as his fist closed around Heavyarms' controls in a vice that could have deformed metal. _Make it, Quatre. You've got to make it. _For the first time in a year, he found himself glad he was unable to see his love's face, certain the look of pain that was sure to be etched upon it would be his undoing. Quatre was right, as always. Duty first...duty above life, love, and liberties. It was the code beaten into each of their minds, the one thing the pilots had been trained to rely upon. The only thing they had been trained to rely upon. As the pair maneuvered their Gundams to face the exit of the bay, _Heavyarms_, Trowa silently prayed. _I need you more than ever. Get us through this, my old friend. Get us through this so that I can save the one I love. _

Boosters flared, the roar of engines drowned in the everlasting silence of space, heat pulsing, but lost within moments as the Gundams blasted from the bay into the pitch black sky.

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><p>"The battle you are witnessing has no significance to either Earth or the Colonies, but it is necessary just the same. Because in reality, it's a fight to save the Colonies. This year, in After Colony 195, the history of battle is finally about to come to an end. Unless these two continue to fight, peace will never be achieved. Can you feel it? Can you feel the misery of this combat? And can you see the peace that awaits us? This battle is making each one of us look for a solution to secure peace."<p>

All of Earth and Space looked on as the final battle between Milliardo Peacecraft and Heero Yuy danced across public screens. A fierce display of raw power as two seemingly unwavering forces danced, metal pounding against metal, beam sabers clashing as they dueled to the death. Thousands of souls stood, mesmerized by the ballet before them, the reality of war settling in horrifying detail finally crashing home after years of idealistic views and politicians poetry being sang to them came to a crashing halt, the truth shining before them,as fear griped their hearts, as reality dawned. Yes, everyone knew lives were being lost because of very same beliefs...yet this display made it so much more _real._ Here and now, they could finally view the horrifying reality of war, the very reason soldiers were driven mad, driven deep into their own minds to battle demons of the past.

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><p>The power drive of Peacemillion proved to out rank the power of Libra, as it wrenched the ruined twisted remains of the once proud flagship of the White Fang from it's collision course to Earth. As the voice of thousands of Coloniests announced their desire to coexist with the inhabitants in earth, a chuck of ruined metal detached from the proud ship, a last testament to it's once proud organization, a final attempt to bow to the wishes of it's Commander Peacecraft.<p>

It seemed to Trowa that his heart couldn't take much more of it's frantic pounding, as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Torn, Heavyarms raced along side Sandrock and Deathscythe, as they tried in vain to catch up to the falling chuck of spaceship. As his will screamed for his boosters to propel him through space faster, his soul sought out it's twin, the other half of himself residing in the broken form of Sandrock's pilot. Pain, fear, love, determination, Quatre's emotions stormed through him, rushing along their empathetic link, flowing through his body and mind threatening to overwhelm him. His heart cried out for Quatre to stay behind, to allow he and Duo attempt to destroy the shard. His mind, rebelled, protesting that the blond pilot would not consent to such a request, though the pain of his wounds grew considerably with each passing moment. Holding tightly to the link which bound them together, Trowa split his attention, overruling the soldier's voice in his head which warned him of the danger. He would not let Quatre's emotions leave him for a moment, for in that moment, he feared, he could lose everything he had come to hold dear.

"Damn. We're not fast enough!" Duo swore.

"We'll have to ruin as much of it as possible," Quatre choked out, "to reduce damages to Earth." _Trowa, _his heart called out, feeling his soul mate connect join with his as much as possible. _We're going to come through this, Trowa. I can feel it. _ Steading his breath as much as humanly possible, Quatre dug deep within himself, beyond the reach of the agony he felt, digging down to the core emotion which had remained buried for so long. Projecting all the love he held for the other pilot, Quatre reached out, drawing strength from their bond. _Just a bit longer, my Trowa. _

They torn through the block of spaceship with a vengeance, emotions running wild, throwing raw power, desire, and sheer will into the task. In the end, they all knew it was too late. Hope of success seemed too far away, as they fought a losing battle with the hunk of ruined metal. When the Maganac Corps added their superior power to their task, Quatre could have sang, Trowa along with him as he felt the relief run through his love.

In the end, though, it was Heero who ended it all as they failed to completely destroy the final part of the block. Heero, the heart of outerspace, had been willing to sacrifice everything, even his life to save Earth. Defying death on final time, Heero launched Wing Zero into the Earth's atmosphere, blowing the shard from the sky with his buster rifle, bringing the war and all it's remains to an end with a cannon blast and a sky filled with shards streaming through the night sky.

The war was finally over.

Mission Complete.

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><p>"Jesus Christ, Trowa. You look like shit!" Duo exclaimed, violet eyes wide as his gaze fell over the unmoving figure tucked into a chair, dark against the brilliant white of the Colony M02 hospital room.<p>

Even as relief flooded through him, paired with gratitude at the arrival of his closest companions, Trowa willed his gaze to stay on the sleeping form before him. Pale blond struck out, the only real color displayed on the bed, as Quatre slumbered quietly before him. _So pale_. Trowa worried, frantically though his body remained rigid, in check with his wishes. _He's slept so much. Could I have been too late bringing him here, after all?_

"Status?" Heero deadpanned. Trowa allowed a smirk to grace his features for only a moment, as he gratefully slipped into his soldier mentality, forcing out all emotion as he delivered the doctor's diagnosis to the visitors quietly standing at the foot of the bed.

"His doctors expect him to make a full recovery, as long as he continues to rest once they release him. He'll stay here for a few more days...his blood loss was significant. They want to monitor him to see if he'll need any more transfusions." Trowa explained quietly.

Heero jerked his head in one stiff motion, earning a grimace from his braided lover at his side, though Trowa continued to appreciate the distraction from his own thoughts. Here, in this mentality, Trowa found himself slowly returning to reason, able to block the consuming emotions that threatened to pull him beneath their waves and drown him in their hidden undertow.

Duo's more exuberant side began to surface, as he hopped lightly from one foot to the other, dancing as much as he could in the relatively small space granted to him.

"Great. Told you he's more stubborn than to let a little prick in the side..._damn it, Heero_!" Duo gasped, Heero's elbow colliding with exact precision into his side. "I mean, he'll be fine, Tro. You, though, you look like you're going to fall out of that chair at any moment."

Trowa shifted slightly, finding no reason to suspect a loss of balance. _Or maybe this is another one of Duo's many "catch phrases". _

"Have you slept at all since that last fight?" Duo demanded, throwing hands dramatically onto his hips, dancing out of Heero's elbow range. "Ha! Missed me!"

The urge to elbow the braided American himself began to swell, though Trowa found himself ever so slightly amused at the antics before him. Pinching the small space between his eyes, Trowa felt himself unable to overcome the newest wave of fatigue. It was true, he'd yet to sleep since before the final battle. He'd found himself incapable of reaching any form of comfort whilst Quatre slumbered in the drug induced sleep provided by the drugs his doctor had admistered by IV.

"Negative. I want to be here when..." his voice left him. Even now, despite glowing reports from the medical staff, Trowa could not allow himself to feel any form of assurance. _Not until he opens his eyes. _

Duo glanced quickly at Heero, who nodded briefly as their conversation passed without a word spoken. Heero melted into the hallway shadows, as quietly as he had come, as Duo moved to kneel before the tall pilot's seat, concern etched into every line of his boyish face. Trowa found himself staring into those fathomless violet depths, wishing for the Cheshire grin, the wild spark in Duo's eyes...anything, anything that might take away even a moment of his worry.

"Listen, Tro, you're not going to do him any favors by going without sleep." Duo urged quietly, carefully.

"I can't sleep, Duo. I know the nurses will keep an eye on him, yet..."

"But it's not the same as your own eyes." Duo's rueful smile blossomed across his face, though no mirth lit his eyes. "I know, man. I'd feel the same way if it was Heero laying on that bed. But," Violet eyes scanned the room quickly before returning to peer into emerald orbs, as he shrugged. "You've got to admit. There are certain benefits of spending time with Quatre Winner. This private room, for example, with an open bed sitting right behind you."

Trowa could feel himself giving in, pulled under by the overwhelming fatigue, despair, and worry. He sighed, as his mind registered the fact that he seemed to be losing quite a few of these arguments as of late. "Duo..."

Heero reappeared in the doorway, silent as a ghost, carrying an extra chair, which looked as hard and unwelcoming as the one Trowa had been seated in for hours, and a worn duffle bag tossed over one shoulder. A determined look shown from his blue eyes, a veiled threat that he would get his way, should the attempt by his lover prove to have failed.

Duo winked at him, a small attempt to regain some of his natural persona. "No sweat, Tro-man. Heero and I've got this. You just lay yourself down over there and grab some z's, we'll watch Quatre."

Trowa sighed, the battle lost. In truth, he knew his body would not hold much longer against the growing fatigue, and he could not accurately recall when he had last slept.

"Very well. You'll..."

"Wake you if something happens. Yeah. No worries, lanky." Duo assured him, shoving him from the seat mercilessly. Trowa stood, untangling himself from his own limbs for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity. Two days of sitting nearly motionless had left his joints and muscles aching, a testament to the tension he'd not been aware he'd been holding himself together with. Running his hands quickly over his face, he trudged slowly spare hospital bed behind his seat, settling slowly onto the unforgiving mattress and limp pillow. A glance in his love's direction and a careful, swift, yet through check at the monitors assured him that Quatre was indeed still far from harm's way, as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to be drawn under into a deep slumber of his own.

"You really should stop interrupting people." Heero softly chastised Duo, once he was certain Trowa had drifted deeply away from them.

"Eh, what's the point. You all love me, even if I'm a bit annoying." Duo quipped back, unconcerned by the criticism he knew his lover only meant in a lukewarm fashion.

"Hn." came Heero's response, as the Japanese man folded himself more throughly into the chair at Quatre's bedside, prepared to watch and wait as long as necessary.

Duo snickered. "Scowl at me, all you want, He-Man**. I personally know for a fact that you love me, even when I'm a little shit."

A moment passed, before Heero asked softly. "What's He-Man?"

In the arms of comforting sleep, Trowa fought back a chuckle.

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><p><strong>**For those of you who are not familiar with the older Mattle characters, He-Man is the lead hero in the Masters of the Universe. Here's a link to the wikipedia page (yes, I know its not the most reliable source, but hey, I'm not writing a story about He-Man.) so that you can check it out if you're curious. <strong>

/wiki/ Masters_of_the_Universe (take out the spaces)


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: Sorry for the delay. I'm not sure if this is the last chapter or not. We'll see. At most there might be an epilogue. I'll cross that bridge when we come to it. As always, thank you for reading!**

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><p>"Trowa?"<p>

Trowa bolted from sleep launching himself from the narrow bed, searching for a weapon instinctively, though his mind had already registered that the gun wouldn't be found in it's natural home on his hip. The silence could have driven him mad, had he not tuned his ears long ago to the quiet sounds of breath from another body. A soft chuckle rose from his right side, soft, though tearing the silence as smoothly as a well sharpened blade, forcing him in an instant from his momentary lapse back into the present, reminding him that someone's voice had brought him so quickly from his slumber.

The smiling face of Quatre Winner sparkled up at him through the dark.

"Quatre." Trowa grumbled, jolting again as the events of the previous days became clear in his sleepy mind. "Quatre!" he exclaimed, throwing himself from the narrow bed, crossing the short space between the two beds in a single stride. "How long have you been awake?"

The blond smiled softly. "Not long. Maybe thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes.! But..." Trowa's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Duo, Heero..."

Quatre chuckled again, waving an arm in the general direction of the window on the other side of his bed. There, bathed in the soft light of the street lamp through the blinds, sat Duo and Heero, curled together as only lovers could possibly manage, sleeping quietly . "I think Duo can sleep anywhere."

"Of course he can." another voice had Trowa whirling around,once again searching in vain for any form of a weapon that ordinarily would be tucked away on his tall, lithe body. Wu Fei melted from the shadows,eyes gleaming with the amusement he'd never allow to grace his face, hands raised. "It's only me. I stopped by a few hours ago, and when I realized the snoring came from that lazy thing on Yuy's lap, decided to stay."

Trowa nodded his thanks, though his eyes narrowed as he pondered the situation. "Some watchers they make."

Quatre was trembling with silent laughter, hand pressed to his side, his face a mask of mirth and pain. "Oh, Trowa. Tell me you've all not been here watching me sleep." He laughed softly, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Of course we were, Winner." Wu Fei's scoffed, his sharp chin jerking up as he submerged himself into his usual arrogant demeanor. "It is our way."

Though Quatre's face immediately transformed into polite business-like man befitting the name of Winner, Trowa could see the laughter still dancing in his aquamarine eyes. "My apologies, Wu Fei. I appreciate your concern." Despite himself, Trowa found his own mirth bubbling forth, unbidden though not wholly unwelcome. _Quatre_, his heart whispered, as his own feelings, denied for so long warmed him from head to toe. Now, with his love awake, he could allow himself a measure of peace, replacing the iron clad grip of worry and fear that had held him captive from the moment he'd realized Quatre's danger.

Rolling his shoulders, Trowa smirked at the small blond, who was shifting slightly upon the bed, attempting to find some small comfort. "At least Wu Fei isn't snoring on the job." Quickly crossing the room, he promptly jerked the chair mercilessly from beneath the two sleeping forms.

To his credit, Duo only made a small squeak as he landed ass first on the cold tile floor. Heero, however, was another matter entirely. His training, subdued for only a moment by the comfort he found in his lover's embrace, molded with a soldier's reflexes and instincts screamed as he swung around poised for attact, at the precise moment Trowa danced just beyond his reach allowing Heero's signature steel toed boots to become tangled in Duo's sprawled out legs. With an uncharacteristic "umph!" the Perfect Soldier fell, his ass landing squarely on Duo's face.

Quatre's laughter rang throughout the room, as he doubled over, tears leaking from his eyes though his body screamed in protest of his mirth.

A muffled curse came from beneath Heero, as firm hands gripped his hips to shift him lower, as Duo struggled to force himself into a seated position, a scowling Heero now on his lap. "Heero, babe. I love your ass. But you don't have to sit on my face for me to get a look, love."

Heero's responding glare had Duo flinching, though further to his credit he remained seated, arms firmly wrapped around his dangerous lover. To anyone else, the glare was lethal at 20 paces. "Do not call me 'babe'."

Laughing himself, Trowa crossed the room again, locating the overhead lights a nurse must have turned down earlier while he slept, as the door slammed open revealing a very cross elderly nurse.

"Mr. Winner. I'm glad to see you awake," she clipped with the voice of a drill sergeant, moving to stand beside the blond pilot who was gasping for breath through laughter and pain. "I really must insist that your _friends_ leave, if they are bothering you."

Quatre made a visible effort to calm himself, though even he could not control the smile that lit his face. "No, I'm sorry. They aren't bothering me. Duo and Heero here just had a small accident, is all." He waved to the two on the floor, Duo's face burning red of embarrassment, Heero still scowling.

Though Trowa could clearly identify her immediate argument, he found himself quietly impressed as she busied herself with her routine diagnostic tests without further comment. Tense moments passed, as even the Gundam Pilots found themselves held firmly in place by the mere presence of the nurse. They had all, at some point or other, found themselves at the hands of local medical facilities both on Earth and in Space alike, each earning a healthy respect and fear for the women who worked in such places. It remained an unspoken fact that these women could perform unspeakable horrors that could trump any torture session Oz could conjure. Finally, seeming content with the state of her patient, the nurse nodded curtly.

"You are very lucky, Mr. Winner. I trust that you will not tempt fate any further by inflicting undue stress to yourself at this point." She demanded. Quatre found himself nodding meekly, finding the movement far more secure than any words might. In truth, he feared he might say something which would cause her to remain longer. With this, she promptly exited the room, though giving the visitors a telling glance, which struck shivers down even the two most stoic pilots.

Stepping forward, Wu Fei nodded in Quatre's direction, as close to a smile as any had seen him,"Winner, now that you're awake and entertained, I will return to the house." His obsidian eyes darted to Heero and Duo, as pointed look was briefly exchanged. "You will need your rest."

Heero promptly removed himself from Duo's lap and stood, jerking the American up roughly by his arms. Grinning widely at Quatre, Duo winked, as a blush crept up the smaller man's neck to flutter across his cheeks, before he turned a smile of guilt and remorse exchanged as his violet eyes peered cautiously from beneath his bangs. "Ah, sorry about falling asleep on duty, Tro. We'll make it up to you."

Trowa smiled slyly at him. "I think you've made up for it sufficiently, Duo. Heero," Trowa nodded in the direction of Wing's pilot.

"Hn." Heero grunted, pulling his duffle onto his shoulder. He clasped Quatre's shoulder briefly in a rare moment of affection (save the few he gave Duo) and followed Wu Fei from the room.

"See ya later, Q!" Duo chirped as he dashed out the door, yelling over his shoulder, "Don't get into too much trouble, you two!"

The silence rang in the long moments passing as their comrades, friends, no, their family left them to themselves. Though he found himself wrapped in the warm embrace of surprising peach, Trowa's heart raced. _Here we are_, his heart whispered, nearly inaudible even within his own mind as the steady sound of his heart thrummed washing out the silence.

Slowly, painfully, hopefully, his emerald gaze turned to Quatre, who, despite incredible blood loss and obvious pain had taken on a healthy glow from laughter. "Those two are impossible." he muttered.

Quatre soft smile played across his lips, as his sparkling aquamarine orbs met emerald, and he eased softly back onto his pillows. "They love each other." His slender hands folded upon his lap, for a brief moment captivating Trowa's gaze." It's nice, that they've found that despite everything they've gone through."

As usual, though the words rang clear as a bell through his mind, Trowa found himself incapable of allowing the words his heart ached to release into the care small blond man before him. Instead, he nodded and lowered himself gently into the chair beside Quatre's bed.

"How do you feel?" he inquired softly.

Once again, a smile danced across Quatre's face, as they had a habit of doing in Trowa's company, despite his response. "Sore, stiff. Everything hurts, but not as badly as I'm sure it could. I'm willing to wager they've got pain medication in one of these bags." Quatre motioned from the i.v to the bags hanging just above his bed. Trowa merely nodded.

"Trowa, please. I'm not going to break." Quatre's hand reached out to grasp his. " I'm sure the doctor is confident that I will be just fine."

_Here he is, in a hospital, an he is comforting me. How Quatre-like._ "How do you seem to always know everything?" He inquired, mock frustration in his soft tone.

Quatre laughed, the pure ringing sound sending waves of pleasure through Trowa's system. "I wouldn't be in a private room, with only an IV and a pulse ox if I were not."

Trowa felt his face heat. Only Quatre held the power to make him feel foolish. Immediately the blond's attitude changed, clearly sensing his embarrassment.

"Oh, Trowa. I didn't mean that how it sounded."

"I know, Quatre. It's just..." Trowa's voice left him, finding himself unsure of the following steps.. Every road seemed to return to telling Quatre everything...all his hidden feelings, all his desires. He dropped his gaze to study the threads in the blanket covering the bed.

The hand, soft and smooth against his hard and calloused own, gripped tightly, reassuring while demanding. "Trowa." Despite himself, Trowa found himself looking up, those pure blue eyes drawing him in, drowning him. "You can tell me, Trowa."

Trowa shook his head, though his heart seemed to shatter in that moment. A year of hidden truths, covered in a veneer of iron and stone begged to be released from their bonds, as his arms ached to wrap themselves around the small body before him, shelter it, protect it, and never let go. "No. Wu Fei was right. You need to rest." He managed, willing himself back into control that simply would not come.

The soft smile returned. "I can feel you, Trowa." The aquamarine gaze caught and held the emerald eyes of the man he loved so dearly once again. Though this time, sparkling tears threatened to fall, shattering Trowa's heart further. "You know I can feel you. Our bond...I've never felt anything like it, my dear Trowa. Each ache, each small joy, it's like your emotions fit perfectly into mine. It's as if you were created to fit with me, like a puzzle piece I didn't even know I was missing until I met you."

Trowa took a moment to marvel at his own pulse. Even in battle, he'd never felt, or heard, it ring so loud in his ears. "I could have lost you, Quat." he whispered softly, his own tears escaping to fall on their joined hands. "I could have lost you before I'd ever even had a moment to really have you.

A single tear ran down Quatre's face. "We've almost lost each other so many times over the last year. Each time," he took a deep breath, "each time, I promised myself I'd never let the chance slip by without my telling you, Trowa."

His heart sang, but in that moment, reality came crashing in. _Who are you, No-Name, to think you can give this man anything?. Who are you to deserve the love of someone so pure? _A harsh voice from within screamed. Insecurity, at it's finest.

"No." Trowa threw himself from his chair, to pace the room as his own emotions waged an internal war on his heart. "Don't, Quatre. Please. Don't say anything else...I can't...I don't have anything to offer you, Quat! This is crazy. I'm no one. Even my name...God! I don't even have a name, Quatre."

Quatre's eyes flashed in an instant, stilling Trowa's movements, as Quatre pulled himself up fully in the bed. "Don't you dare, Trowa." With a breath, Quatre forced himself into a more calm state of mind, as he often had over the years. Anger, he told himself, will not win you this war. " Please, don't ever say something like that again, Trowa. You have a name. You are someone. You are Trowa Barton, Pilot of the Gundam Heavy Arms, friend, brother, and, you, Trowa, are the love of my life."

Trowa's heart leapt as he forced himself to take calm, reassuring breaths. WIthin an instant most of his insecurities abandoned their cause to stand quietly, as the love he felt raced through his blood like fire. Yes, he had known his love was returned. Yet, hearing it, feeling it as it poured out of Quatre during his small speech...it took his breath away.

Slowly, with careful deliberate steps, he returned to the bed, this time, seating himself on the edge. With care, he cupped the small, angelic face that had captured his heart in one hand, rubbing the tear that had fallen away with his thumb. "I love you, Quatre Winner. I just...I just wish I had more to offer you."

Fresh tears flowed from Quatre's eyes. "Oh,Trowa. All I've ever needed was you."


End file.
